The brown bees sleep; and round the walk,
The garden path, from stalk to stalk
The bungling beetle booms,
Where two soft shadows stand and talk
Among the blooms.
The stars are thick; the light is dead
That dyed the west; and Drowsyhead,
Tuning his cricket-pipe,
Nods, and some apple, round and red,
Drops overripe.
Now down the road, that shambles by,
A window, shining like an eye
Through climbing rose and gourd,
Shows where Toil sups and these things lie
His heart and hoard.
JOHN CHARLES McNEILL
[John Charles McNeill was born in Scotland County, North Carolina, in 1874.- After graduating from Wake Forest College, he practiced law in Lumberton, North Carolina, for some time. Later he accepted a position on the staff of the Charlotte, North Carolina, Observer, and devoted his entire time to writing until his death, in 1907. Though he published only two small collections of verse, yet these were sufficient to show that he was remarkably gifted as a poet.] 1, AWAY DOWN HOME 1 T will not be long before they hear The bull bat on the hill, And in the valley through the dusk The pastoral whippoorwill. 1 The selections from McNeill are published here through the permission of the holder of copyright, The Stone-Barringer Publishing Co.
